Nightmares
by LittleEnglishLass
Summary: Dreams aren't always nice. Nobody knows that more than Bumblebee. Thankfully, there's always one person ready to comfort him, no matter what.


**Sooooo, yeah. I 'unno. I did have a poll up, and 'Adventures in Wheeljack-sitting' came up trumps, but that's a big one-shot and it's taking a while longer than I thought, so I've decided to practice my writing skills on smaller one-shots like this. **

**I know that age-wise Bee is supposed to be in his late teens, but I like the idea of him just really still being a complete and utter child inside, wanting the comfort of family and friends. And I just freaking ADORE the idea of OP being a father-figure to our little scout. *squee attack***

**Also, a little info. I had a great idea. Eyes are always very expressive, so I thought to myself, 'what if Cybertronians expressed almost **_**all**_** their emotions with their eyes?' And thus, I made up this little list that I eventually intend on making into an enlarged version in a separate info-fic that encompasses all of Cybertronian culture. Tell me if you think it's a good idea! *ahem* Here's the first part, but I still have some bits to add.**

**Cybertronian Emotional Expression**

**Main Category; FACIAL **

**-Sub Category; EYES **

When a Cybertronian has very brightly glowing optics, it generally means they are extremely agitated or distressed. The action of 'crying', or as close as it can be related to the human term, is_ not_ a common trait with most adult Cybertronians, it is a mannerism mostly associated with younglings/sparklings, but an adult Cybertronian will 'cry' when experiencing severe grief or sorrow. When their optics go a very dark version of their original colour, it's a sign of rage. If the optics go completely black, this means the Cybertronian is feeling violent, verging on murderous. It is unwise to approach a Cybertronian in this state, they should be avoided at all costs until they can calm down. When the optics are both darkened and 'misty' looking, it's a sign of pain. Happiness varies greatly, but the most commonly excepted sign of happiness is an odd 'glint' of colour that flashes across the optics.

**Hope you enjoy.**

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**Nightmares**

The storm outside was muffled slightly by the thick window, but the unyielding rain still beat against the pane, a lagoon of water blurring the darkened world outside as it raced down its smooth glass mountain in streaks. A flash of lightening illuminated the room, where a small, trembling figure was curled up into a tight ball on a berth.

Bumblebee whimpered in his sleep, doorwings flattened to his back. Night was always a difficult time for him. It was when he was away from the bustle and noise of the day, and instead, thrust in the silence left behind. He tossed and turned as he dreamed, his little face twisted into an expression of terror. His vents worked overtime as his spark whined with distress, the horror-filled visions filling his processor reaching their peak.

_A river of lifeblood, seeping and crusting along torn and destroyed buildings. Screaming voices was all he knew. People begging for mercy, their pleas falling on deaf ears, while cold laughter mocked their suffering. A world where the sky was as black and chocking as coal, the lightening of gunfire ripping through the thick, searing clouds, the harsh roar of fallen warriors ripping into his mind like a thousand shards. He tried to run, but found he was frozen to the spot. He couldn't move. Couldn't tear his eyes from the death and destruction in front of him, the broken and twisted corpses of his friends-no his family- laying at his feet, while the bitter shadows closed in._

_He called out for help, but no-one came to his rescue. His arms scrabbled for the warmth of another, pleading for someone to hold him close and take him away from all the screaming and death._

_Still, nobody came._

_He tried to scream, but his cry was choked off by the searing bite of the shadows icy grip. He was drowning in the cold. The shadows were suffocating him._

_Killing him._

Bumblebee woke suddenly, eyes flying open in time for a loud crack of lightening to burst from the clouds, followed almost instantly by the crash of thunder. He screamed and jumped violently, before curling into an even tighter ball than before. The remains of his nightmare were seemingly blistered into his vision, everything in the once familiar room immediately became terrifying and wrong.

The trees that moved outside were now swaying, spidery demons that tip-tapped the window in a sinister melody. The wind becoming a howling, infuriated cry of some invisible torment. The chair and desk became a hulking monster that inched slowly towards him with every flash of lightening. The pictures on the walls of his human friends began to move, their frozen eyes glaring evilly at him, the figures slithering out of the frames like serpents, their long, skeletal fingers itching to scratch out his optics and tear at his throat.

Leaping off the berth, Bumblebee ran for the door, not bothering to close it behind him as he tore down the dark hallways, the shapes of familiar items and decor turning into monsters, trying to grab him and pull him back into the suffocating shadows once again. He cried out as lightening broke again, skirting around the two large windows that lined the long corridor to Optimus' berthroom.

Spark hammering painfully hard in his chest, Bumblebee ran into the room, clambering up the berth and snuggling into the warm confines of his leader's arms. He carefully placed himself with his head curled near to that wonderful spark. The soft song the energy made was a familiar, soothing lullaby that instantly began to calm him, sending waves of comfort rolling through his shaking frame.

He would be safe here. Nothing could get him.

Optimus stirred from his sleep with all the movement. He blinked a few times, before looking down at the trembling form nestled in his arms in bewilderment.

"Bee?" he asked, his voice a little hoarse.

The little 'bot raised his head with a whimper, with what humans would have called tears threatening to spill from those adorable optics of his, now awfully bright as he gazed up at the mech he had always thought of as a father. Optimus suddenly felt very awake. He hated the idea of Bumblebee being upset or scared.

"Bee? What's wrong?"

Bee didn't answer at first. He sobbed a little, and Optimus sat up, gently cradling the smaller 'bot as best he could. He waited.

"_Y-you were all dead. There was a s-storm, and bullets, and dead people. There were monsters after me." _Bumblebee clicked, optics still glowing brightly in the dark room. _"Please...please don't be dead next time."_

Optimus gently cocked his head to the side. He instantly knew. "Bad dreams again, little one?"

Bee nodded and held onto the larger mech tighter. Optimus gently stoked his scout's head, trying to soothe away the little mech's distress.

"You know dreams are not real Bee." He said softly. "They cannot harm you. And though I cannot promise you much in this world, I _can_ promise you that."

_"I know. They still...still scare me sometimes."_

Bee shuddered at the memory of his nightmare, and curled closer into his leader's embrace, little fingers gently gripping the sides of Optimus' chest-plates. Primus, he was acting like such a sparkling. But he just couldn't help it. He couldn't stop himself adhering to that childish need to be close to the spark of another, especially one as warm and calm as the one right in front of him.

He sniffed a little.

Optimus sighed. He knew what it was like. He understood completely. He too was plagued by nightmares of the past. The awful memories of the carnage of war he had pushed to the back of his mind came rushing back, tormenting his nights like demons from the shadows.

"I understand Bee. But you have nothing to fear while I am still around. I will not let any monsters, real or not, get anywhere near you. And trust me, I intend to stay around for a very long while yet."

The scout looked up and blinked at his leader, who smiled and gently rubbed at the back of the smaller bot's head, just below where the helm-plates connected with the top of his back-strut. Bumblebee felt the waves of comfort and warmth wash over him, and he relaxed, leaning into the reassuring touch.

A sudden crash of thunder ruined the moment. Bee squealed and dived for cover in his leader's arms. Optimus chuckled a little, and continued his soothing motions. After all the years of daring and courage in battle, his little scout was scared by something as natural and frequent as thunder.

Optimus smiled as he recalled the day he'd found the little mech. He remembered helping out with an energon shipment in the ruins of a small settlement on the outskirts of Tyger Pax in the midst of a particularly bad storm, the energy charge left over from a previous battle, and how he'd heard the tiny, faint cries echoing out of a partially destroyed building. He remembered he and his team frantically searching through the rubble, finally coming across the body of a femme, a newborn clutched tightly to her chest.

It had been both a joyous and terrible moment.

On one hand, the life of a sparkling had been saved, bringing hope to all their sparks. But on the other, a mother would never get to see her child grow, the child would never know the femme who carried and bore him during a battle.

Optimus felt the familiar emotion of sadness creep into him. It was obvious were Bee got his bravery from. He couldn't imagine how terrified Bee's mother, whom he now knew was called Goldbug, would have been. Alone, and heavy with child as a war raged around her, no medic on hand as she gave birth, and in her last moment, cradled her child close before finally slipping away to the Well.

He admired her for it, and he thanked Primus everyday for the safe delivery of Bumblebee, even when all the odds were against him.

"_Can I stay here tonight?"_

The sweet little clicks and beeps redirected Optimus' attention from his musings. He smiled down at his little scout and patted his head.

"Need you even ask?"

Bee smiled up into the warm, kind optics of his protector. No, no he didn't need to ask. All those times as a sparkling, scared by the noises of war, as a youngling, injured in training, he had been cradled and cared for by the mech in front of him, advised when he was lost, comforted when he was upset.

Bee cuddled into Optimus' chest. He knew nightmares would not bother him again tonight.

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**Short but sweet. Did you like?**

**Don't forget to review!**


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